


Masters of War

by IWLTxo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Drugged Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Heroin, M/M, Male Slash, Porn With Plot, Pornography, Prostitution, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWLTxo/pseuds/IWLTxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under a pseudonym, Sirius Black rises to become the most successful pornstar in Riddle's company until Remus Lupin enters his life and changes it for the better, of course. And with their unconventional love comes inhumane acts of manipulation. With their love comes hate and heartbreak...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masters of War

**Author's Note:**

> This does have a plot, I promise you, though it might seem ambiguous right now. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you!

 

 

 

 

_ Chapter One _

He isn't sure when he started  _ hating _ it. He's nineteen; there's plenty ahead in life for him. But he’s standing here, with a  little blue pill  resting on his palm and a bottle of water held tightly in his other hand. There is a naked man on the bed not ten feet away posing for pictures, Sirius swallows bitterly, sometimes he doesn't understand how  _ this _ was the best option.

It's shocking. A rich, posh boy like him - turned to pornography. It's agony. 

There are men and women flitting busily around him;  twinky fluffers and burly grips. Film crew with light meters and reflecting panels deliberating with the smoking cameramen. Hair and makeup artists and set dressers  fussing about over nothing.

'Come on  Sirius ,' the  brisk voice of a producer calls out to him, she’s drinking from a takeaway coffee cup and consulting a clipboard, ‘it’s your turn for  stills before we shoot the scene.'

He's hates  the way they talk to him; like he's nothing to them, not a person, just another part of the set. Which Sirius supposes _is_ because he  is , he’s just another tool for use, like the lighting rig or the wide, airily dressed set bed.  Perhaps he’s a little more important than the props, Sirius reasons, the bed doesn't have a huge  fan  following like Sirius does, he’s also sure that the bed doesn’t take home a pay packet like Sirius’s. _ Money _ _._ Something he didn't have to worry about pre-disownment. Now, it's what makes him  whore himself out,  at least on camera is safer than before.

Sirius lights up a cigarette, and his eyes fall on the man lying on the white bed. The man seems to sense his gaze because he  looks past the camera, in Sirius’s direction.  Sirius knows how he appears , there is sunlight streaming through the high narrow windows and colliding with his black hair, turning it bluish. It's beautiful. There’s a reason pictures of him smoking are goddamn popular.

He's already stark naked. His body is a collage of tattoos, but even  he is starting to think of them the way the his profile on the website describes them ;  _ vibrant _ roses on his back, a signature on his  _ perky _ arse, his dead brother's  _ loopy  _ initials on his collarbone, Chinese words wrapped around his thigh _like a_ _ garter_,  _ fluid  _ Latin just under his belly button. He despises that this ...  _ career _ – if it could be called that, for him it is just the lesser of several evils – has  managed to skew the way he appreciates his tattoos, because really, they're glorious and he loves the way the black ink looks on him.

A woman approaches him holding a large black and white aerosol can like a weapon and sprays his thick, jaw-length black hair. Absently he reads the part of  the can  that isn't obscured by her French tipped, fake tanned hand,  ‘ _Art_ _ , _ _Air Fix Spray_ ’.  Sirius scowls,  _ for fuck’s sake, _ he thinks, does everything have to have some ultra-polished, overly market- tested pseudonym? It’s fucking  _ hairspray._

The cloud of chemicals is somewhat of a metaphor for this vapid industry , Sirius muses , as the woman dabs his face with a tiny bit of foundation, the spray is suffocating, unnecessary and sticky, exactly like porn. 

Sirius sighs tiredly. It's so boring. He can feel his penis reacting to the Viagra he popped a few minutes ago and he looks down at the renewed erection he has. The sight reminds him that he is here to work, and so he becomes the man he is for the camera. 

Sirius approaches the bed to exchange places with the man who was being photographed before him. Sirius smiles at him and the man grins back, as if to say,  _ 'Oh, fuck me now please.' _

As gracefully as he can, Sirius throws himself on the bed, letting his limbs fall dramatically around him. His hair is tousled and his silver eyes smoulder. Sirius inhales from his cigarette and the smoke curls around him, darkening his already lustful eyes. He can turn it on for the camera instantly, just like he can turn it off when the crew  aren't recording everything he’ s doing .

The middle-aged cameraman’s eyes are trained to Sirius's cock as he adjusts his lens, 'Perfect,' he says, not bothering hide his lecherous tone as watches the teenager move on the bed. Sirius knows the man is staring at his long thick prick , his eyes following every bouncing  movement. Sirius licks his lips,  his  cigarette is perched between his index and middle fingers, and then he teasingly strokes his chest.

'This is fantastic Sirius, just a few more shots.'

'Can you not call me Sirius please? I don't want people knowing my actual name.' He says forcefully before posing once more.

'Sorry about that, what was it again?'

'Orion White.' He reasserts .

‘Orion,’ Sirius corrects the cameraman forcefully, ‘not Sirius.’ 

The cameraman doesn't’t comment, names are interchangeable to him. 

Sirius’s head drops when the clicking and flashing ends, the photographer has put his camera down. That means it’s time. Time to fuck the guy waiting in the wings until he _sees stars_ \- until the director and the rest of the crew are satisfied that  Orion White  will once again reap them the rewards they believe they deserve. Sirius wonders when he will have paid his due, he might only be approaching four months of continual fucking and sucking on film, but he’s already more followed, requested and commented on than anyone else on the  Pure Boys website.

'Alright, I don't  wanna have to break this up into scenes.’ The director says with authoritative disdain, ‘That doesn't go down well with your viewers Black. So let's try to capture this in about twenty five to thirty minutes.'

Sirius doesn't correct the director on the use of his real name because he’s higher up the pecking order than a lowly  pervert cameraman. The  director is on good terms with the head of the company,  and he’s  someone Sirius doesn't like to argue with. 

Sirius looks at the handsome man near him, his co-star for the afternoon. He’s tall with a well-muscled frame , his lips are pouty lips he’s quite fresh faced beneath his shaggy blonde hair. He has all the right qualities, and yet is lacking something that is so  _ blindingly _ _obvious,_ Sirius can't really work out what it is. Something. Just  something .

The director sweeps from the room to watch the closed-circuit recording in the editing room .The hair and make-up woman has finished with the other man, and she and the wardrobe assistants vacate, followed by the lighting guy, after he’s made a last minute, miniscule adjustment to the way the set is lit. This leaves Sirius, the man he’s about to fuck and the two man camera crew in the now empty seeming faux bedroom. Sirius feels more … at ease, but still terribly frightened. He always feels frightened when he's doing scenes like this.

He stands up and begins to dress, because it's so much sexier to undress one another rather than appear naked, seemingly out of the blue. When he's wearing his t-shirt, his jeans and he has his shoes and socks on, he sits on the bed. The man whose name he still doesn't t know sits beside him and they exchange a smile, mostly on this unknown entity's part.

Then the main camera man , one who is reasonable familiar to Sirius, though he has no idea of his name, nods at them and the camera starts to roll. 'Introduce yourselves,' he says in a low voice, loud enough for the camera but not loud enough to take the attention away from the two rather handsome men before him.

'My name is Orion White, I'm almost twenty and I'm from Westminster.' Sirius grins as charmingly as possible to the lens a few feet away, before he sinks into the embrace the other man is giving him. Eager beaver, Sirius thinks randomly, and wants to laugh.

'I'm Tyler Bass and I'm twenty two. I'm from Hertfordshire, which is a rather boring place compared to London.'

Sirius is a good actor; maybe that's why he's so popular and prosperous in the porn industry. He throws back his head and laughs, leaving it on Tyler's shoulder as his fingers toy playfully with the buttons on  the man’s  shirt. 'London really isn't all _that_ amazing.'

'It seems like it is.'

'Well trust me when I say more bad comes out of living here than good...' Sirius kisses Tyler's cheek, who winks at the camera.

'So, who's bottoming?' Tyler asks Sirius. 'Because I haven't topped in a long time...' 

It's all fixed. They even have a fake coin with both sides that are heads so Sirius definitely tops. But it excites viewers; they anticipate the wait, the y like wondering through the fifteen minutes of foreplay about who is going to be the  arse and who is going to pound said ass .

'I  wanna top too,' Sirius replies, as flirtatiously as he can, 'let's flip a coin.' He pulls the rigged coin from his pocket and perches is on his fingertips. Then he winks at Tyler. Sirius flips it, not too high, he really doesn't want to fumble and drop it and have to start all over again. It lands neatly on his hand. 'Call it.' he dares Tyler. 

Tyler laughs tauntingly at him and puckers his lips before saying softly, ' Erm , tails?'

Sirius looks down at his coin and looks up at Tyler, angling it so only he can see and not the camera.

_ Tease... _

'Alright,' He turns to the camera and says in his husky posh voice, 'you’ll just have to wait and see who won I guess...' He grins , and in all honesty is rather relieved at the fact that he does  always  get to top.

Tyler leans up to kiss him and their lips meet in a soft battle, Tyler pushes Sirius back on the bed, hovering over him momentarily before he lowers himself and covers Sirius’s whole body with his own . They make out rather vigorously and Sirius hears himself moan first. He shivers. This Tyler guy is quite good at kissing. Then he feels the man start to pull off his shirt and he helps him, canting his hips so his trousers can be pulled off too. Sirius slowly, teasingly, pushes Tyler off him and like a tortoise, he takes off his shoes as if he has all the time in the world.

But he doesn't. He has twenty two and a half minutes. 

His shoes fall with thuds to the ground and he groans low in his throat when he's thrown back onto the bed.

'Do you like when I touch you?' Tyler asks, his voice a shade too loud for intimacy, because it’s not, it’s for the camera. 

Sirius honestly doesn't care much for  _ Tyler’s _ touching, it’s the same as all the others. He would rather just speed this up, so he nods despite his dignity, which is bashing around like an angry teenager inside him and telling him to just get the fuck out of the mess he's gotten himself into. He nods again in clear view of the camera this time, just to reassert the fact that he does indeed like it when Tyler touches him.

'Good,' Tyler says before he attaches his lips to Sirius's inked collarbone. Sirius pants under his breath. He can feel his hard on pressing into Tyler's stomach and thrusts gently against him, it’s something that will always feel good. They start kissing again and soon, they're both almost naked. Sirius throws Tyler's underwear over his head and pushes Tyler down, drawing the man's impressive prick into his mouth and sucking in earnest.

A salty bitter splash coats his tongue and he swallows it down, lapping at the head of Tyler's cock.

'Good god,' Tyler grunts , thrusting into Sirius's mouth in such a way that Sirius wonders if it’s all entirely acting.

'Easy boy. We have time.' Sirius breathes against his cock, looking up with his enormous gorgeous grey eyes and flicking his eyelashes. His cheekbones stand out magnificently when he goes down on people, and it seems as though Tyler loves it. Up and down. Down and up. Fluttering his tongue. Swallowing. Hollowing his cheeks in. Swallowing again. Tyler is putty in his hands.

'Fuck Orion,' Tyler pants, 'you're so good at this.'

Sirius uses this opportunity to swallow as much of Tyler as he can down his throat. The man gives a shout of surprise and then reaches down to pull Sirius away from his cock , and back up to his face,  'You have no idea,' he says against Sirius's swollen red lips, 'how close you were to getting a mouthful of my  cum .'

Sirius grins at him and gives his cock and appreciative squeeze. 'I had an idea.'

'You tease.' Tyler whispers into his ear before he flips them so he's on top. He leaves a bruising kiss on each of Sirius's nipples before moving down to circle his navel with his tongue. 'When did you get this tattoo?' he asks.

Sirius gives out a breathy reply of, 'When I was sixteen.'

'What does it mean?' as Tyler asks this, he's breathing directly over Sirius's clothed cock and he grins up at him when Sirius moans once more.

'It means "Love Conquers All".' Then Sirius cries out as his  Ralph Lauren  boxers are pulled down his thighs and Tyler's hands are on his cock, slowly massaging, squeezing. Sirius has a nice prick, but then again, he can't exactly think that about himself, but that ’s what the fans say. It's long and thick with a dark gathering of black silky pubes at the base. It stands tall and proud. Sirius stretches his long pale limbs, the muscles in his arms and legs flexing.

'You have a gorgeous dick, might I just say.' Tyler compliments him, just as the script tells him to.

Sirius laughs and then is cut off when his cock is swallowed by the overwhelmingly tight, wet, warm mouth of Tyler Bass. Sirius knots his fingers in the man’s soft hair and begins to fuck his face, almost aggressively so, but Tyler doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems to be enjoying it, one hand pressed to Sirius's stomach to keep him from getting too rough, and the other stroking himself so he stays hard.

It feels like hours of carefully choreographed ecstasy have gone by, but i n reality it's been maybe fiftee n minutes - consisting of a long winded 69 that left Sirius’s abdominals burning, rimming which he much prefers receiving than giving, and of course, Sirius's favourite, getting his dick sucked some more. 

One of the camera crew wave their hands in the air as a signal that they really need to be getting along now.

It's Sirius's turn to slide down Tyler's body. He  presses kisses all over his torso ; to his neck, his chest,  the firm muscles of his stomach. Then  on to the s oft skin of his thighs , purposely gliding over his cock as he spreads Tyler's legs and sits between them.

Sirius looks at the camera and winks. 'I'm topping by the way.' He grabs the bottle of lube beside him and squirts a bit, the practiced , perfect amount, onto his fingers. Then he sneaks one between Tyler's legs and enters his finger. After half a minute, his second finger goes in, then his third, and soon Tyler is meeting his scissoring digits with a wanton enthusiasm.

Tyler snatches the condom from Sirius's fingers before he can unwrap it, he tears into it and unrolls it down Sirius’s length. They're both out of breath ; words have sort of escaped them now. After another apparently sweet kiss – empty, but  _ by the book _ nonetheless – Sirius positions himself, hiking one of the man's slightly more tanned, hair-sprinkled, legs up at the knee with his hand. He presses his cock to the entrance, and as smoothly as he can, slides in. He lets out a guttural, low moan and tosses his head back just as Tyler whimpers.

'Fuck,' Sirius breathes before he sets a slow and steady pace, he doesn't think he’ll ever get bored of this feeling, the very first push, tight, slick and almost unbearably hot.

'You feel so good,' Tyler moans, carefully articulate, but when Sirius's thrusts grow harder and are roughly grazing his prostate with each and every pass, Tyler's camera conciseness slips, and his broken groaning isn't making sense. He's just … existing . 

Sirius wishes he could get lost in the feeling too, just forget that this was all for show, that there would be people watching him. Editors and fans alike, analysing every inch of his body. But he can’t, he is always too  present these days,  too aware that all of it is an act. 

He can't even remember the last he  _ truly _ smiled, not the hollow curling up of his lips that happens for the camera, or for his boss, or for his neighbourhood weed dealer. A fake smile for the fake people in his fake life. 

Sirius  leans in and  wraps his hand around the light-haired man's  cock as he pounds into him. 'Say my name,' he growls into his ear. It’s  not altogether for show, having a little more control over one tiny aspect of the situation helps him through.

As does Tyler’s magnificent pleading, 'Orion, oh god, Orion ... don't stop...'

Sirius feels like he’ s forcing himself less as the tempo increases, Tyler’s ankles are crossed behind Sirius’s neck now, and his knees are starting to ache as  he pistons relentlessly into the man, not stopping until they get the cue that it’s time for the much anticipated doggy style. Tyler manages a graceful switch of position and Sirius drives in again , hard and fast. 

Finally Tyler cries out his release. He trembles and clenches around Sirius and for a moment it's perfect. Really bloody perfect, it's so tight Sirius can hardly believe he hasn't come yet. Maybe because he's already climaxed twice this afternoon, with different men – a scheduling mix up he was told – but whatever the reason, Sirius i s indifferent to the lips gliding down his neck, over his lips, between his thighs.

The scene ends with Tyler performing rather spectacular fellatio on Sirius, which eventually sends him over the edge, and Tyler shows the camera the bucket-load of come in his mouth before swallowing and planting a solid kiss on Sirius's lips.

As soon as Sirius  can  get out of the room, he does. He knows the girls at reception watch and whisper about him as he passes through the public portion of the building . He’s yanking on his leather jacket and desperate to get to his bike and freedom. Freedom being relative of course. Tonight it’s  a few lines of cocaine and  smoking as much weed as his lungs can handle, until he's spinning, falling, tripping over the edge and there's no one there to catch him.

_ No one there to even care... _

 


End file.
